Ecliptica Page 6

  “Oh sure, every now and then they turn up again, but the nights feel longer of late. If I had to guess, I’d say something is happenin’ over there.”

  “I think now my reasoning for some handheld weapons is even more sound,” Drake spoke to Zeek quickly so as not to arouse suspicion for his delayed response.

  “Well, that definitely makes me glad I’m not crossing the border,” Drake was feeling a little nervous now about the task ahead, “even so, I most definitely need to be prepared. Tell me, is there a place I can buy a good mountain pony here, perhaps some mapping supplies?” he held back asking about the smithy yet, wanting to see if the information was offered freely.

  “Your mapping supplies are easy enough, Lou lives not three dwellings down from this very inn. She once worked in the Great Library and has plenty of supplies, as well as existing maps. I’ll warn you now though, she’s a little…quirky.”

  “I’m quite fond of quirky,” Drake smiled, “I’m guessing from your tone that the pony is a little more tough to come by?”

  “You might say that. Marik lives just a short distance north of here, but he’s a bit of a recluse. Some say he was visited by the Shadows and it forever changed him, others say he used to be a great warrior and the toll of battle was more than his mind could cope with. Either way, he is tricky to find, particularly if he doesn’t want to be. Just tell him that Gracie sent you; we go back a little way so he’ll know I’ve approved of you to a degree.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Perhaps you should also pay a visit to Elijah, he’s the town smithy, always looking to make a quick leven.” Gracie had given Drake that last bit of information he had wanted to know: where to get hold of a weapon.

  “Thank you again Gracie,” Drake handed over the handful of coins, being sure to add in a few extra. ‘Kindness deserves kindness,’ Drake reasoned.

  “If you want to head on up to your room, I will get the hot water sent up to you along with your food. Room seven at the top of the stairs,” as she pointed to the staircase in the centre of the room and slid a large key across the bar.

  Drake dipped his head in thanks and made his way upstairs to his room.

  The old stairs had creaked and protested a little as he climbed them. The smell of ale and open fire clung to the very walls of the inn; it was a comforting sensation that reminded Drake that other people were here and none who knew him. He turned the oversized key in the lock and pushed the door open, before entering the room, careful to take a quick look to make sure all was safe before fully entering. A simple wooden bed sat in the room, a single window on the far wall. The room was furnished with two sturdy chairs and a dark oak table.

  “This at least appears to be a comfortable rest for the night. The innkeeper was most welcoming and I could see no overly suspicious characters to be cautious of in the inn below,” Zeek seemed almost as please as Drake to have a safe harbour for the night. Deciding to use their link to speak with Zeek, so not to arouse the suspicions of any eavesdroppers Drake replied, “this most certainly makes a change from running from the Blackbird and having people know who you are all the time. It’s quite a freeing feeling.” As their bond grew, Drake found that the direct link was a much quicker way of communicating with Zeek, though still very strange to do.

  “It seems as though we may have a very productive time here in Isimir. So long as our search for Marik goes well tomorrow that is.”

  As they began discussing the next move that they should take, there was a knock at the door.

  “Excuse me please,” a quiet voice called through the door, “I have your meal here for you and the water jugs.”

  “Please, come in, the door is open,” Drake called back.

  The door opened and a young woman entered. She was short, maybe a few years older than Drake, with hair pulled back in a tie behind her head. The jugs of deliciously hot water sloshed on a large trolley as she entered the room cautiously. The plate of food was balanced atop one jug, an ingenious way of keeping the food warm as it was moved through the inn. A chunk of bread and a glass of the local brew sat next to the bowl of steaming stew.

  “Thank you,” Drake smiled as he took a small coin from the pouch in his sleeve. He held it out to her. Gingerly, she stepped towards him and took the coin. “Thank you kindly sir,” she gave a grateful smile, then spun on her heel and walked briskly out of the room; the door clicking closed behind her as she left.

  Sitting down with his first hot meal in, he could not remember how long, Drake talked with Zeek about how to go seeking out the next piece of the Ecliptica. The plan was to continue to pose as a cartographer, eventually crossing over the border and searching for any clues as to the location of the Ecliptica.

  The meal was welcomed by his belly, making him ache as he ate more than his fill. Looking out of the small window, Drake surveyed dusk in Isimir. The village was made up of only twenty buildings, varying in size from dwelling to store house. Large stone blocks made up the buildings and thatched rooves protected those inside from the elements. Weathered and battered, these buildings had stood here for a great length of time and seen a good deal as they had watched over the lands. If these stones could talk, Drake mused, what secrets could they tell.

  That thought reminded him of his earlier experience: the whispers in the winds.

  “Do listen again youngling, you may find something of use to us.”

  Closing his eyes and drawing in his focus, Drake listened.

  “…..Drakkeeee….Isimiiirrr….Deathhhh….”

  His eyes snapped open. That was not what he was hoping to hear, not at all.

  “I heard that also youngling. It seems we are attracting more attention than we would like. Though that does now give us a very clear idea of whom these words are from. It seems our encounter with the Psimere has been heard by its masters and new orders have been given.”

  Not a calming thought, being pursued by one of the strongest magical and dark beings of the current realms. One who has death on its mind.

  “Well, this definitely brings up the urgency of moving on from here and not being in the same place for too long. Seems our respite here needs to be cut short,” Drake tried to joke about this new predicament. “For now though, I’m going to bathe. It would be most uncivilised to kill a man whilst in the bath, so I will be safe for the next while at least.” With that, he poured the water and readied himself for a good scrub.

  . . .

  The following morning, after a good night’s rest in a soft warm bed, and a filling breakfast, Drake made his way to the smithy, Elijah. He already knew roughly the blade set that he wanted for himself, but was not sure what he would find amongst the smith’s wares. He also knew that their coin must stretch to a trekking pony as well as a pack of supplies.

  The smithy was set in the centre of Isimir, being one of the key points of trade for those passing through.

  “Good morrow to you sir,” Elijah welcomed Drake as he drew near. “Would you be looking for a blade or a bow? You won’t find any others within a hundred leagues,” the well built man laughed.

  “That is most true,” Drake replied with a chuckle, “I would wager you have the finest blades and bows at the most…competitive prices too?”

  “Ah, yes young sir that the truth,” the smithy laughed, “the truth indeed. Feel free to take a look at the racks and see what catches your eye. When you have found what you wish, come talk to old Elijah about a price,” still laughing, he ducked back inside to stoke the fire and heat the coals with the oversized bellows.

  Drake began looking through the swords, knives, assassin spikes and long bows that lined the numerous racks. There was an odd mixture on the racks; Elvish blades, Dwarven axes, pommels with runes, gems set within sheathes. As he surveyed the odd mixture, he realised the items were all scavenged. There was nothing here, or very little at the least, that had been made by this smithy’s two hands.

  “Do you know the style of weapon you seek? Or are we just pe
rusing the wares?” Zeek asked, with a mild of impatience tainting his voice. Zeek was against having a weapon, other than magic, to take along into the Shadow realm. A visible weapon could set one as a potential threat even before words were exchanged; magic, however, was not visible to the naked eye and offered greater freedom amongst others.

  “I know exactly the style I’m looking for.”

  Sure enough, buried among a pile of rusted short swords and throwing knives, Drake found what he was after, best of all it was a pair. Two wickedly curved blades, though covered in rust through years of neglect, with full guard handles and sheathes. Each blade sat almost twelve inches long, a perfect extension of each arm; and finely balanced too. Through all the coverings he could not tell the metal base that made up the blades, but he knew as soon as his fingers wrapped around them, they were what he was looking for.

  “Not what I would call pristine condition youngling, but not a bad choice of blade. Almost certainly these would have belonged to a master assassin.” Zeek took in the blade’s feel through Drakes hands, “finely balanced for close encounters.”

  As his fingers became familiar with the blades his thumbs ventured to the base of each pommel. He scratched his nail gently at the pommel and was surprised to find, under red lichen, a black gem set into each.

  “Jaden I believe youngling. A rare find indeed on a blade. Not to question who the original owner was, but judging by these gem insets, it was almost definitely a magic user. I believe I owe you my apology.”

  “Not just a pretty face,” Drake jested “apology accepted. Now let’s see if this smithy knows what he has here.”

  Drake did his best to keep the blades as filthy as possible, with the aim of bartering down Elijah on the price. Upon finding the smithy inside however, it appeared Drake had been rummaging through his pile of weapons to be smelted for scrap.

  “Surely you would be wanting a broadsword, or at least a healthy bow?” Elijah asked, an eyebrow raised as Drake brought forth his find.

  “Call me an academic, but I’m rather more interested in polishing steel than flailing it at others. These are more a deterrent than a threat.” Drake lied to the smithy, hoping his disinterest in a fine fighting weapon would play to his advantage.

  “I was told that a weapon chooses its owner, rather than the owner choosing it...suite yourself young sir. If you have the time to clean them up and polish the metal back to life, then by all means they are yours. I only ask you for their worth in metal weight.”

  Drake was surprised to find the current worth of metal so low when Elijah asked him for just forty levens. He even offered Drake a whetstone glove, laughing as he handed it over.

  “You’ll spend half your life getting those clean and then the other half wishing you had a proper weapon.”

  Elijah was still chuckling to himself as Drake made his way to the outskirts of Isimir to find Marik and get himself a pony for the journey into the Shadow realm.

  “It seems the smithy is more a recycler of old weapons, rather than a producer of new ones,” Zeek mused as they made their way along the route that Gracie had given them that morning.

  “That’s fine by me. Forty levens back in Port Gol would have probably bought a good steak...or a half night at the wench house in lower Gol.” He gave a snort as he considered the rather roughly dressed wenches who chased after the new sailors, offering them ‘the best time of their lives’ as they smiled a toothy dozen. He still did not understand how they stayed in business. A sailor must be really desperate after months at sea, with only his fellow shipmates for company.

  “Shall we keep those thoughts for another time and place youngling. For now we have much to do and a short amount of time to achieve it,” Zeek gave Drake a mental nudge.

  “Shall we see how similar all of the tradesmen of Isimir are? I would put good leven on all the ponies having being trained to return here once their rides go missing.” Drake did not like the idea of becoming another missing person in the Shadow Realm.

  ~ 10 ~

  Rossa Lunabelle. Bluecap. Underling mage. Adventurer. Part time “acquirer” of relics.

  The Lunabelle family line was of great importance to the Bluecaps. As one of the oldest family lines, they held a powerful voice amongst the community. Situated in the great dwarven mines of the old empire, the Bluecaps kept very much to themselves, rarely venturing out beyond the mines, teasing and luring all those who dared enter. It is said, among the common folk, that a Bluecap is a bright blue light, small enough to fit in your hand. That being said, very few have seen an actual Bluecap that isn’t leading unsuspecting minors around in various circles, while giggling merrily to themselves.

  In truth a Bluecap stands four feet tall at their highest, are often reasonably well dressed and most certainly do not glow. They are however a most mischievous and inquisitive of folk. The Bluecap populous can be found living in the deeper parts of mines in vast dwellings carved straight into the stone. Their ability to wield some magic has meant that they never go without light or heat, or entertainment. An average day does not go by without at least a handful of practical jokes or teasing. In one case, many years prior, a rather inventive boy had kept his joke running for almost a full month, insisting that he had tamed a wild human and was keeping it as a pet. In reality, this turned out to be an almost fully shaved mountain goat, save for a tuft of hair and beard. Let it never be said that a Bluecap is not inventive in nature.

  Rossa Lunabelle, the youngest of the current generation of Lunabelles, grew up in the mines to the very north of Gol; many miles from the nearest settlements, in what used to be a deep dwarven mine of ilminite and tungsten, long since abandoned but still of great interest to explorers. There are a great deal of Bluecaps, and the mines are home to the vast majority. This means that the company does not vary much, and this makes certain people itchy to get out.

  Leaving the mines, for a Bluecap, was highly frowned upon. Bluecaps keep to themselves and do not really mix with others, tending to use their light tricks to dazzle and amaze, as well as confuse strangers into heading out of the caves.

  Rossa was one of ‘those’ Bluecaps that all others knew about and tried to avoid at all costs. Often she would be found following a group of intrepid explorers and, rather than amazing them with her magic, she listened to them from the shadows. When she was old enough, Rossa planned to leave the mines and see the world outside. To see the huge vastness that was called ‘sea’ and the great flat grounds of the ‘plains’, but most of all she wanted to see ‘trees’. Growing up in a mine, not being known for their vast number of subterranean trees, she was amazed to hear one group of explorers talking about trees that were a hundred times taller than he was and numbered in their thousands. She had almost run to the man then and there and demand he show her these trees, but her fear at that young age had stopped her.

  Now, at the age of passage, Rossa had said farewell to all she knew, her family and few friends and headed off to see what lay beyond the mine. As she packed up her belongings many shook their heads, fully expecting never to see her again or in some cases, to see her again after just one evening, after she had come to her senses and returned home. Young Rossa however proved them all wrong. Upon reaching the entrance to the mine, she found the world outside rather disappointing, for it was just as dark as the tunnels of the mines had been. It wasn’t until she had walked past a lake that she noticed a huge glowing disc in the depths, after much speculation and some well aimed stones, she discovered that it was in fact, not in the lake but in the sky; and so was Rossa’s first view of the moon. She had marvelled at it as it hung there, a motionless beauty of pure white in the deep black pool of the sky. She had heard tales of stars, distant specks of smaller moons shining brightly, but their sight was just as powerful. She made her way back to the safety of the mine entrance for some sleep, welcoming the familiarity and safety whilst she slept. As dawn came and the moon descended to take its leave from watch duty, the vast expanse of the world
suddenly became a reality. Standing on the hillside, close to the entrance of the mine, she looked out across a great carpeting of green. The tops of the trees, lush and vibrant after the gloom of the night, welcomed her to the realm outside her home.

  It didn’t take long for Rossa to want to learn all she could about this amazing, colourful world. She felt she had been missing so much all her life. Now, finally free of her home, she wanted to see and experience anything and everything she could. The history of the world became one of her passions and she was overjoyed to find huge buildings in which parchments were kept to be read by anyone who wished. The libraries of the northern cities became her new home and she read as much as she could. The ancient cities and civilizations captured her imagination the most. The great cities of the Elves, the Dwarven mines (even the history of the one she had grown up in) and the great battles against the Shadow Realm.

  It did not take long for Rossa to decide that she wanted to explore the ruins to the south, maybe to even one day venture into the Shadow Realm itself to see with her own eyes what now lived there.

  Her travels led her to hear about many mysteries and stories. Rossa found she had quite a taste for seeking out unusual treasures and relics that were only mentioned in scrolls of centuries gone by. She joined many exploration groups for relics to be donated to the libraries. These were not the most lucrative of jobs to apply herself to however, and when money began to dwindle, she found that her short stature and ability to command magic meant that she could slip an occasional item out of the old ruin sites. Sneaking the odd relic past the scholars gave her quite a rush, and so it became a favourite pastime routine: start a new dig, size up what could easily be smuggled out and then make the acquisition. Rossa began making a name for herself among the market traders as someone to go to, should a specific item be requested by a high end buyer. Money became easier and the sites more lucrative. After a full set of seasons, Rossa had a good deal of money to her name and began to delve into the library archives to find more unusual items. It was during one of these late night’s searching through old tomes and parchments that she discovered mentions of the Ecliptica of the Great Dragon. This was too much of a temptation to be passed up. Delving into the great sea of parchments stored in the libraries of old, she read all she could find on the legends. Days turned into weeks before she finally emerged. Covered in writing ink and clutching her own set of fresh parchments, she began to put her plan into motion. After filling her supply pack, seeking out a pair of assassin spikes (for her own protection of course) she began to ask her usual sources if they had heard anything about the location of ‘small silver puzzle pieces’. It didn’t take too long for rumours to reach her ears, not the rumours she wished to hear however.